Just Between Us
by jessica-bones-winchester
Summary: Written for @deansdirtylittlesecretblog's Trope Challenge on Tumblr. My trope was a secret relationship. (Dean & an unnamed OFC)


A nest of vampires nearly kicked our asses, and Dean and I were both battered and bruised. Sam took his fair share, but he was far better off than we were. He dropped us at the motel and went in search of food.

I stared into the bathroom mirror as I ran a wet, cold wash cloth over my face, until I saw the two punctures on my neck. The short trails of dried blood beneath them brought tears to my eyes. If Dean hadn't been there...

"You okay?"

I turned to find Dean leaning against the door frame. I nodded, unsure of my voice.

He walked over to me and examined the wounds on my neck.

"That was a close call," he said.

I nodded again, and turned away.

"Hey."

He grabbed my hand, and I froze.

"You're not okay. You're shaking."

"I need to get cleaned up," I said, but my voice trembled despite my effort.

"Let me help." He patted the counter. "Hop up."

I lifted myself to sit on the counter, cringing as my sore muscles strained, and Dean rinsed the cloth. My knees parted to let him get closer. It wasn't the first time Dean had to tend to my wounds, and it wouldn't be the last. We both knew the routine.

He held my neck as he cleaned the blood away with a firm, but gentle hand. I hissed as the cloth rubbed over one of the punctures.

"Sorry," he said.

"You saved my life tonight."

"Come on, we save each other's asses all the time."

"No, Dean." I pulled the hand with the cloth away from my neck. "That thing sank its teeth into me. If you hadn't shown up when you did, I could-"

"Stop it. You're fine."

I nodded and looked away. A moment passed, and he just stood there. I looked up into his eyes and we both leaned forward. His hand at my neck tugged me toward him, and our lips met. It was soft as his mouth moved against mine, until I wrapped my arms around his shoulders. He grabbed my hips and pulled me to the edge of the counter, closer to him.

A door slammed.

"You guys here?" Sam called out.

Dean stepped away and ran a hand through his hair.

"In here." He looked into my eyes. "You shower, then I'll put a bandage over that."

Neither of us mentioned it again until we were back at the bunker. When Sam went to his room to unpack, Dean and I stole a few minutes in the kitchen.

"About what happened..." he said, "back at the motel."

"You don't have to apologize."

"Who's apologizing?"

I stared at him a moment. "I thought you were about to say you made a mistake."

"You think it was a mistake?"

"No."

Dean glanced at the doorway, then wrapped an arm around my waist.

"I almost lost you. I realized that when I was cleaning your neck."

"You pulled away when Sam came in."

"I don't... I don't know what this is yet. I'm not ready to share it. I wanna keep you to myself for a while."

He smiled as he leaned in for another kiss. I ran my hands over his chest, and he moaned against my lips.

"How can we hide this from Sam? We're always together."

"We'll figure it out."

Three weeks later, and Dean and I barely had the chance to hold hands, let alone anything else. When a case came up that required us to drive far enough from the bunker to need a motel, Sam was sick with the flu, so he stayed behind. Dean and I talked about the case during the drive. Otherwise, we were quite. It was normal. It was comfortable. Yet, there was this unspoken expectation - an anticipation that grew as Dean reached across the seat and held my hand as he drove. I moved closer to him, and he draped his arm around my shoulders with a kiss to my temple.

The case went smoother than expected. We stopped at a hole-in-the-wall restaurant for dinner, and were checked into a motel by nine.

I unpacked a few things I would need for the night while Dean shrugged out of his jacket and threw it over a chair. There were two beds in the room, and Dean lay down on top of the one closest to the door. I leaned back against the dresser and stared at him as he kicked off his shoes.

"What?" he asked.

"I was just wondering if you have a side of the bed."

A smile spread across his face. "I'll take whatever side you give me, sweetheart."

I slid beside him and he pulled me close as he wrapped his arms tight around me.

I kissed his jaw while he ran his fingers through my hair.

"It's been hard not to kiss you since that night," I said.

"We've kissed."

"A stolen peck on the lips behind Sam's back while his head is in a book is not the kind of kiss I want."

"Oh, no?"

"No."

"Well, maybe I need a demonstration."

"That's bull, and we both know it."

Dean laughed. It was a laugh that lit up his eyes. So rare, and it made him even more gorgeous.

"Maybe you should just kiss me," I said.

His fingers brushed over my cheek as his lips pressed against mine. I let him have control. Lazy, open-mouth kisses kept us busy for a while as hands roamed, becoming familiar with the curves and hard lines of each other's bodies. It wasn't like we had never touched each other before, but this was different. These tender touches were meant to seduce, not to heal.

Dean rolled onto his back and pulled me on top of him. I straddled his hips and kissed along his jaw until he whispered my name. He lifted my face then flipped us over so that he was on top. When he sat up to pull off his shirts, I popped open the button of his jeans. He stared down at me with a grin, then kissed me, leaving me breathless for the first of many times that night.

Sam was feeling a little better when Dean and I got back to the bunker, so we knew we had little time before hiding whatever this was between us would become harder than ever.

There were nights when Dean showed up at my bedroom door, and we made love with whispered words, and kisses to absorb the pleasured moans. There were nights when I wanted nothing more than to feel Dean lying beside me. I slipped into his room and slid under the covers next to his sleeping form, only to have him pull me closer and nuzzle my neck.

I always assumed being intimate with Dean, truly intimate, would be hard. I thought it would be complicated. It turned out to be one of the easiest, most comfortable things in my life. Even keeping it a secret was easy. It was our secret. Something just between us. Smiles, winks, and touches exchanged while in the company of others held an exhilaration that made our next private moment all the more intense.

After a week on the road, Sam, Dean, and I were back at the bunker doing research on a possible case. I stood from the library table and brushed my fingers across Dean's back as I walked past him. I went down the corridor toward my bedroom, but slowed my pace to wait for Dean. It wasn't long before he was heading my way with long, purposeful strides. Without a word, he scooped me into his arms and kissed me, never missing a step.

In the privacy of my room he put me on my feet and backed me up against the wall.

"You drive me crazy," he whispered as his lips trailed down my neck.

I pulled his hips to mine and slipped my hands down the back of his jeans.

"It's been a week since I've been able to touch you this way."

"A week? Felt like months."

"I missed you."

Dean pulled back and smiled. He ran his thumb across my lips and placed a soft kiss to them.

"I missed you, too."

Dean dressed and left first. We decided to meet in the kitchen, knowing that Sam would question where we both went if we went back to the library. It was almost dinner time, so we fixed something to eat, and Dean went and got Sam.

"I love how you guys just leave me doing all the work."

"I got hungry," I said.

Dean smiled behind his brother.

That night Dean came to my room, but we didn't make love. We watched a movie as we lay on my bed with his arm around me. Sam even came in for a while before heading to bed, and never once questioned the innocence of us lying there that way.

Dean kissed me, slow and deep. His hand caressed my face, and he sighed as he pulled away.

"I really like what we have," he said.

"So do I."


End file.
